


Flashback of a Feeling

by waketosleep



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, cliche bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waketosleep/pseuds/waketosleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You love waking up in the middle of the night when it's like this, to the creak of the bed as he slips under the covers and presses up against you, hot and familiar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flashback of a Feeling

You love waking up in the middle of the night when it's like this, to the creak of the bed as he slips under the covers and presses up against you, hot and familiar. You smile into the dark as fingers slide over your waist, trailing across your stomach to curl around the other hip. His leg insinuates itself between yours and he licks at your neck.

You stretch sleepily, languidly, wantonly, and shift toward him, encouraged by the tug on your hip, pushing up lazily against his hard thigh as you taste your way along his skin to find his lips in the dark. The tiny sliver of light creeping under the door from the corridor traces his outline in grey against black; you roll into him to kiss deeper and cradle the back of his head with your free hand, happily burying your fingers in his hair and delighting in the thought that you're messing it up even though you can't see your own handiwork. He smiles a little into the kiss and you smile back, because he knows what you're thinking and he finds your obsession with messing him up either adorable or illogical, depending on his mood.

"Spent half the night in the lab again?" you murmur into his neck, smelling his skin.

"I have Beta shift tomorrow."

"You'll probably spend half of Alpha in the labs too. Workaholic." You nip at the spot where his neck becomes his shoulder and he moves his head a little to allow better access.

"I suppose that I must be. I considered going straight to sleep but I would not wish to be remiss in my other daily responsibilities."

You push his shoulder until he obediently lays back on the bed and then you throw a leg over his waist, settling on top of him and sliding down to kiss your way down his chest. "Damn straight," you say, your voice a little husky, your tone private and intimate. "Although the point of a bedwarmer is to be in here, warming it, by the time I go to bed. I can see we'll have to work on this," you continue, your breath ghosting over his nipple.

He shifts under you, wanting the touch, and with a wicked grin he can't see as a warning, you lean down to suck hard on it, once, enjoying the hiss he utters, before continuing your leisurely way down his torso.

"It's a good thing I'm a patient teacher," you say, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock.

His only response is a sharp inhalation.

You swirl your tongue as you go down on him, and there is the soft thud of head meeting pillow above you. "Jim," he breathes out, full of rare emotion. His fingers trace their way up over your face, the hollows of your cheeks, teasing past the spots he touches to mind-meld, and then card through your hair as you go to work on him.

Usually you prefer to make it fast, hard, mind-blowing, to make him thrash and arch his back as he comes down your throat; sometimes you like to draw it out, to tease, to see how many times you can bring him to the edge and pull him back before he starts to beg softly, fingers gripping the sheets almost hard enough to pull them off the bed. Tonight you go for relentless, constant, unyielding, methodical. Having that strategy turned around on him completely undoes him, and he moans, sometimes loudly, and pants and gasps out your name like a litany.

"Jim, Jim, _Jim_, Jim."

Eventually he thrusts into your mouth, shallowly, as much as he can with all your weight pinning his hips, finding leverage with his strength but still mostly under control, because if he really wanted to, he could probably throw you right off the bed.

He groans, loudly, because he's almost there, he's at the edge. You suck hard one more time and then remove your hand from the base of his cock and go down all the way, swallowing around the head once. With a noise between a gasp and a whimper, he pushes his hips up, shuddering, and you back off a little as he comes in your mouth.

He is boneless as you sit up, wiping your mouth, and crawl back up the bed to drop beside him, half on top of him. He takes a deep breath, recovering his senses, and then abruptly shoves you down into the mattress, kissing you senseless, licking all the taste of himself from inside your mouth. He purrs, that little, self-satisfied Vulcan growl that gives you shivers, as he reaches down to take your erection in a possessive, sure grip and pumps hard, squeezing.

You make an incoherent noise, melting back into the sheets, as his hot mouth descends on you.

And then you wake up, and the sheets are sticky, and your alarm clock is going off on the nightstand. You slam a heavy hand down on the snooze and turn over, away from the side of the bed that's been cold for four months now, and huddle down under the blankets as the warm feelings dissipate under the onslaught of full consciousness.

Every morning reopens the wound and it never seems to hurt any less than it did the first time.

Spock is gone and you're left sleeping with a ghost.

 

THE END


End file.
